OE, LANGUAGE OP PLOWEES. 
235 
Throng upon my mind whenever 
I do gaze upon ye : never 
Beauteous shapes of God’s creation 
More deserved man’s admiration, 
Than the flowing grasses, growing 
Wild where’er the breeze is blowing.” 
THE ALBANIAN LOVE-LETTER. 
An exquisite invention this, 
Worthy of Love’s most honeyed kiss, 
This art of writing billet doux 
In buds, and odours, and bright hues,— 
In saying all one feels and thinks, 
In clever daffodils aud pinks, 
Uttering (as well as silence may) 
The sweetest words the sweetest way: 
How fit, too, for the lady’s bosom, 
The place where billet-doux repose ’em. 
How charming in some rural spot, 
Combining love with garden plot, 
At once to cultivate one’s flowers, 
And one’s epistolary powers, 
Growing one’s own choice words and fancies 
In orange tubs, and beds of pansies; 
One’s sighs and passionate declarations 
In odorous rhet’ric of carnations; 
